Home

I should be in bed since i have to actually go to work tomorrow morning but i just want to write this before I get busy and don't...

The things that make home home for me...

Wildflowers in the orchard
Moms books everywhere
Pictures. Pictures. And more pictures.
The sound of Ollie* racing around the house
The slam of the screen door
The the smell of goat feed
The feel of chicken scratch in your hands
The familiar smell of the air conditioner being used for the first time
Eating fruit straight off the tree
Long chats on the couch
Homecooked meals
Cereal from a sippy bowl
Gathering eggs
The sounds that are so familiar you don't notice them-the tick of grandmommy's clock, the creak of the second story as mom enjoys her quiet time, the ac kicking on, roosters crowing, guineas squawking, the lack of sirens and horns honking...
Pop pop's popcorn
Gema's desserts
Games.
The crunch of the gravel in the driveway
The musty smell of the barn and how it never changes
The school room view
The feeling of peace I get when i turn the corner and I see the front porch

Home isn't perfect by standard definitions. The plates come in many shapes and patterns, the silverware is all different, the furniture is mismatched the towels come in every shade. The flowerbeds have tomato plants next to petunias, and the bedding is bits and pieces from different sets. But it's perfect. I wouldn't have it any other way. Home is home. It's familiar and safe and the place i feel the most at ease. And it's all because of the woman who made it home, my mom.

I never want to leave and my heart always aches a little bit as the hills become plains and each mile takes me away from the home and the woman that saw my first step, my first sleepover, my first date, my first baby...

I love you mom. Thank you for giving me the childhood I had and for making a home saturated with love and priceless memories.